


Sacrifices of the Soul

by CarpeBellum



Series: What We Give [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark, M/M, Slow Burn, Spy Draco Malfoy, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:56:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23604175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarpeBellum/pseuds/CarpeBellum
Summary: Draco has to come to terms with his roll in the ongoing war. Will Draco put aside his pride and safety to be used as a pawn? Or will he rise to the occasion on his own? How can he rise while protecting Harry from both the war, and the man Draco has become?Second part in the What We Give Series. Highly suggest reading the series in order.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: What We Give [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/781290
Comments: 29
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter One

Potter did not enjoy being ignored. 

Draco did not enjoy ignoring Potter, but distance between them was needed. 

Not that he should have to tell Potter that, Potter was a very knowledgeable person. Perfectly aware of the consequences of the situation Draco was in if he was found out. In fact, Potter was one of the only people fully aware of how much danger Draco was in. How important secrecy was. How exact Draco had to be in his situation. 

Being a spy for Dumbledore called for precision. 

While Potter wasn't aware of Draco being a spy exactly, Potter did get the point that Draco was knee-deep in a shitty situation. A real fucking pisser. 

So why, Draco pondered, was Potter hiding in the overhead storage next to Goyle's trunk? Who else would be under the invisibility cloak? If it's fucking Weasley, Draco will break his nose. 

"One more year after this, thank Merlin," Crabb attempted at conversation. 

"For some of us," Pansy added, leaning against Draco's side. 

"What's that’s supposed to mean?" Crabb asked. 

Shit. This wasn't how Potter was supposed to find out. "Our Lord may wish to continue my education with private lessons," Draco explained Pansy's gossip. 

Crabb and Goyle's eyes widened. 

"It depends on how well I do this year," Draco elaborated. "Our family has served the Dark Lord well, this would be our reward." 

"No one else would make a better prodigy for our Lord," Pansy complimented. 

"Wow…Draco, that's amazing," Goyle whispered. 

"But we're not surprised, I mean, no one else has shown their loyalty like you have," Crabb flattered. 

"We all have our uses for our Lord," Draco droned, not feeling the words, but not needing to pretend so hard for show. He had spilt blood for their Lord, a thing no one else their age has done. He had earned his title of Death Eater before the mark was burned into his arm. 

"What do you have to do?" Goyle asked. 

Draco kept his face blank. 

"Obviously, Goyle, he will tell us when we have proven ourselves worthy of his trust," Pansy hissed. 

"Um, sorry. Didn't mean to offend," Goyle back tracked. 

Draco took pity on him, "No offense was taken, I'm sure you're just excited." 

Pansy took the hint and backed off. 

"Well, boys, is everyone looking forward to this shit show of a year?" Crabb broke the tension the best he could. 

Draco didn't keep up with the conversation as the world went by with the gentle sound of the train whirling by. He wasn't expected to continue conversation, he had nothing to prove. His peers were trying to prove themselves to him. 

He let them try. 

He liked the feeling. 

He didn’t look into why he liked having people struggle for his attention. 

Maybe he was finally getting the attention his parents tried to buy. Maybe he was glad to have power over people when he had none for so long. 

Maybe he was stepping into the man the Dark Lord was starting to sculp him into. 

Maybe he was being a fucking drama queen. That's what Daphne would say. Draco thought that’s what she would say. 

He hadn't forgotten what she looked like. 

That would be too much of a fucking privilege, but also the worst sin he could commit in a long line of sin. 

Instead, her body was a guard of the Manor. Draco couldn't think of anything else to do with the Inferi that was made with Daphne's body. 

Draco glanced in the blank space next to Goyle's trunk. What would Potter think if he knew? 

So much Draco had to keep hidden from Potter. He couldn't risk the most important relationship in his life. He wouldn't risk losing Potter's trust. If Potter knew what Draco really was, he would be revolted. 

Draco was revolted by himself. He carried enough hate for himself for both of them. Protecting Potter from himself was the least he could do. 

The hills of the country side lulled Draco into a gentle rhythmic trance. He was so tired of the crushing weight of the Manor. 

"Have you gone to see your dad?" 

Draco brought his attention back to the conversation in the cart. He was letting his guard down. Stupid. "Ah, yes, father is doing well," Draco responded to Crabbe's question. 

"They won't let me see my dad," Crabbe explained, "I just want to know if he's ok." Crabbe gave Draco a humbled look, his eyes cast downward and his hands folded gently in front of him. Crabbe new he was addressing someone above his standing, he knew he was giving Draco a chance to call in a favor. 

Crabbe had finally learned how their world works. 

"I'll see what strings I can pull."  
_  
The dark castle stood as an unyielding imposing force in a sea of harsh waves. The waves crashed against the dark stones, clawing at the building. The sky was crystal blue, making the depressing sight of Azkaban seem only more imposing. As if the very castle itself would poison the sea and the sky with the evil that was held in the walls._

_Draco's mother was silent next to him on the boat that seemed too delicate to make the journey across the violent waves. The silence of his mother was a familiar feeling to him, but the coldness coming from Narcissa was only comparable to Azkaban itself. She had yet to say a word to Draco all summer. She would only speak at him, but never to Draco. Never in conversation. Never with a loving word. No warmth ever came from his mother._

_He had gotten use to the cold._

_Ghostly figures hovered close to the boat has they met the island. Draco stepped off of the boat and onto the slick, wet rock. He held his hand out to guide his mother from the boat. She didn't take it._

_Their guide stepped out of the boat. Draco held out a hand to the old man on frail legs. He didn't accept Draco's kindness either._

_"Malfoys, this way if you please," their guide motioned to the only entrance into the castle._

_Narcissa's head was held high, unwavering in her resolve. Dementors circled closer. Draco's spine was dipped in ice. His mother seemed unaffected - perhaps her cold soul had infected her blood._

_Two aurors met them in the entrance. A young woman with dark hair and observant eyes nodded in recognition towards Draco. Gemma Farley - a Prefect in Draco's first year before she graduated. A rough looking woman glared behind Farley. She was tall and broad shouldered, with grey curly hair and unwelcoming eyes._

_"You will both have to leave your wands with us while on property, we don't want any funny business from either of you, understand?" the older woman spoke, her arms crossed._

_"And what 'funny business' would you expect?" Narcissa pointed out._

_"I am sure she didn't mean any offence, mother," Draco hushed as gently as he could. He knew his mother's coldness, her heat he feared. Her eyebrow twitched, but she didn't look at her son. Draco couldn't remember the last time she looked directly at him._

_"Wands. Now," ordered the rough woman. Draco handed his over easily. Narcissa paused before slowly giving her wand away. "Now," the woman continued, "you must remain in one of our sights at all times. The Dementors shouldn't bother you, but let's not take any chances, shall we?"_

_The halls of Azkaban were tighter than Draco imagined. When he would imagine Azkaban as a child, he would think of large halls with dark stone. Aurors posted at every cell, wails of the prisoners echoing the halls._

_The reality was much more gruesome._

_Wails of agonizing suffering didn't echo against the dark rough stone. The silence was deafening in the castle. Waves outside couldn't be heard. Whispering was none. The silence burned against Draco's ears. Their footsteps were an island in a sea of thick silence._

_The prisoners didn't stir from their cells. Empty eyes barely glanced up. The signs of a lack of hygiene was clear. Greasy, long hair masked dirty faces and rotting teeth. As Draco was able to examine the cells, he could see basic hygiene tools. Unused. The prisoners were so deep in their unfeeling, they couldn't clean themselves._

_They were becoming the very ghosts of despair that feasted on them._

_The halls were narrow, but so very high. High enough that Dementors floated above their heads. Circling._

_They were lead to a basic room. Torches lit the place to show two chairs of one side of a simple wooden table. His father sat on the other side, chains attached to his wrists._

_Draco's guilt that he had pushed deep inside on him rose to the back of his throat. Lucius had lost stones in weight. His cheeks sunken into his skull. Dark circles bruised under his eyes. Lucius was hallow._

_His father smiled gently up at him. A resolved smile._

_A firm hand guided Draco to a hard wooden seat. Narcisa removed her hand the second she could._

_"You look well," Narcisa stated._

_"And you look as radiant as ever, my dear," Lucius flattered. Draco would snort if he could, flattery would not work on his mother._

_The older woman spoke up from behind the Malfoys, "only an hour."_

_"Lucius, have your son tell you about his O.W.Ls results," Narcisa ordered._

_Lucius looked at Draco, glancing at his wife in question. "I did well, father," Draco interrupted Lucius's thought, "you will be proud."_

_"Of course I am Draco," Lucius admitted. "I am so very proud of you and everything you do."_

_"Lucius." Draco's mother growled._

_He continued, "Taking charge of the family matters. Taking care of your mother, being the man of the house-"_

_"Well he isn't the head of the house? Not with our guest. Is he?" Narcisa sneered. Her upper lip twisted to show her teeth. Like she was a growling wolf, ready for the kill._

_Draco held his breath as he closed his eyes. Fuck. He should have guessed this wouldn't have gone well. Ever since that night, they had fought with a hatred in their stomachs._

_His mother was using a tone he had never heard before._

_Every time they were together, every damn time, they fought. They yelled. The manor had been suffocating with the silent, boiling anger between his parents. Until, of course, Draco had gotten his father arrested._

_His father wasn't raising his voice, but Draco didn't think he had the energy to. Narcissa had enough anger to make up the part of the argument._

_He was the one that pushed them this far. He had broken them without even trying. What type of a monster was he to shatter a marriage without attempting to? What was he capable in his own anger? If he wanted to hurt people, what could he do?_

_His parents continued their tense argument, yelling in vague metaphors, but at some point Draco stopped listening to the things they said to each other that made his stomach drop._

_What was he turning into?_

_He was an ugly soul, a twisted-_

_A gentle hand on his shoulder made him flinch. He looked up towards the source of the touch. Farley spoke softly, "Why don't we let your parents have a moment?"_

_Draco could feel his parent's shock with the sudden silence that covered the suffocating room. When was the last time someone had taken him into consideration? When was the last time he took himself into consideration?_

_He left the room without asking his parents for permission._

_Farley led him outside the visiting room. Down multiple halls without cells, but the stench of despair was thick in the walls._

_He was taken past a thick dark door that led into what he assumed to be a worker's lounge. How very, terribly depressing that thought was. A simple table and chairs in front of a fireplace. The only window in this entire hellscape was looking out into the lonely sea._

_Draco helped himself to opening the window and lighting a cigarette._

_"Do you want some tea- oh, never… mind…" Farley put the teapot down before taking one of the only two seats in the small room._

_"No thank you," Draco declined in his politest tone. He looked out into the sea. For however sad a worker's lounge in Azkaban was, the view was of simple beauty Draco wasn't often exposed to these days. The sky and sea blended together at the horizon with a calming light blue. The sea was a deep, never ending shade of indigo against the bright sky. A lovely sight that almost got the taste of despair off of Draco's tongue. The cigarette masked the rest of the taste._

_"Um… so… are you looking forward to going back to Hogwarts?" Farley stumbled an attempted conversation after moments of silence._

_"Oh yes, I love school," Draco answered with too much excitement in his tone. He was feeling a smidge bitter._

_Farley paused. Blinked. Then pursed her lips together. "Good, good…yeah, good, that’s so super cool," Farley rambled._

_"Hmmm," being an ass didn't help him, but it made Draco feel better. Like a baby blanket._

_"Is…um…you like, uh… Quidditch?" Farley asked._

_"Quidditch is super cool," Draco snarked, he was thankful for someone to lash out at._

_Farley puffed her cheeks out before blowing out a steady stream of air, raising her eyebrows and looking at her feet. Draco continued to smoke out of the open window. Dementors circled above the bright cloudless sky over Azkaban._

_"How did you end up here?" Draco threw Farley a bone in her awkwardness._

_"Um…what do you mean?"_

_"This doesn't seem like a particularly popular posting for an Auror. Did you piss someone off or…?"_

_"Oh! Um, no, not really. I actually applied. And well… I was the only one who applied," Farley rambled._

_"And in why in Merlin's beard would you apply here?" Draco questioned, leaning against the window sill._

_"That's… ah, a bit of a long story…"_

_Draco redirected the conversation with ease, "How do you spend your time outside of herding Dementors?"_

_"Oh, well, I try to make it a point to go out sometime with friends. Um, I'm part of a dueling club, which is always good to keep your senses sharp. And I ah… I try to keep up with my four dogs…do you have any pets?"_

_No, but a giant fucking snake lives in his house and seems to move in shadows. "I've never had a pet, actually," Draco answered the too polite question._

_"Really? Never? Not even a owl?"_

_"I mean, of course we have owls, but they're not really pets are they?" Draco offered Farley a cigarette._

_"I suppose that depends, do you name your owls? And aren't you too young to smoke?"_

_"I'm only too young if I'm caught, and we don't name our messager owls. So, no pets I guess."_

_Farley eyed the cigarette before pulling out her own pack and lighting it with her wand, moving to stand next to Draco near the open window. The mixture of smoke and saltwater washed away the smell of the Manor that had stained Draco's flesh for the last two months._

_"I happen to know your cousin, we met in the Auror program," Farley noted._

_"Sorry to hear that," Draco commented._

_"She's not so bad. When was the last time you two talked anyway?" Farley investigated._

_Draco stilled, giving Farley a steady look. "Never, but you would already know that, Mrs. Farley."_

_"Listen, Malfoy-"_

_"I think I better be going, wouldn't wish to miss my father, busy man and all," Draco straightened from leaning against the window sill._

_Farley looked at him with knitted brows in pity. Pity he wasn't worth. She put out her smoke with a sigh, "I'll escort you."_

The train gently slowed near Hogwarts. 

As they had arrived closer and closer to their destination, Draco watched as the tension left his companion's shoulders. Pansy had somehow gotten him to lay back, his head in her lap, with a coy smile that reminded him of a time when they were good friends. He let himself relax as much as he could allow. Everyone enjoyed the momentary release of the crushing weight of the ongoing war. They found themselves laughing at something Goyle had said that wasn't actually funny, but they gave this moment to themselves as a gift. 

A momentary truce was between them. 

How long would this last? 

The train sputtered to a gentle stop, the castle welcoming them. Their home in these troubled times. Draco watched as his companions filed out of the cart, carrying their luggage. Pansy reached out to him with her hand. Draco made an excuse, telling her he would meet them for dinner. 

As soon as the door to the cart was locked, Potter climbed down from the above storage, removing the invisibility cloak.

Potter's smile was one of brilliance. 

Draco looked, really looked, at Potter for the first time in months. He hadn’t allowed himself to take in the site of his friend earlier when they had accidentally met a week ago at Borgin and Burkes. He couldn’t risk the danger that would be the consequence of a simple glance. Anything that could give Draco’s feelings for Potter away could have him dead. 

But now, in this simple moment together, Draco allowed himself to just look. Potter hadn’t changed much, his hair was longer and he had gotten taller, but otherwise he appeared the same. Draco couldn’t stop the first genuine smile he had in months from forming on his face. He couldn’t stop his heart beating faster. He couldn’t stop the warmth in his chest that melted away the ice that Draco had surrounded himself in while at the Manor. He couldn’t stop these emotions if he wanted to, a dangerous risk, but a risk Draco wanted to take. He wouldn’t stop these feelings if he could, which was the most dangerous thought of them all. 

“Hi,” Potter smiled at him. 

A warmth spread from Draco’s chest to his cheeks. He had missed Potter in a way that made him ache. He had missed being able to think about Potter without the dangers of someone hearing his thoughts. And now he was here. Draco could touch and talk to and think all he wanted, because Potter was safe. In this moment, they were safe. Draco had missed being safe, but he wanted Potter most of all. 

“Hi,” was all he was able to say to explain everything that he couldn’t. 

“I missed you,” Potter was always ready to take the first step. 

“I missed you so much,” Draco couldn’t keep his voice from shaking. 

“I...how...” Potter struggled for words before he reached out for Draco. His hand hovering over his left arm. Potter hesitated, and Draco's heart sunk into his stomach. 

Draco flinched away from Potter. Draco wouldn’t want him to spoil himself by laying a hand on what Draco had become over just one summer break. There was always something dark in him, he had known, but now there was a twisted mark to brand his shame. 

Potter tried to meet Draco where he was as he brought his hands to Draco’s shoulders. Potter was slow in his motions, treating Draco like a growling dog, and who could blame him? 

When did things become so difficult between them?

When Draco didn’t move Potter drew him into a hug. Draco allowed himself be held, but he couldn’t bring himself to wrap his arms around Potter. His hands almost touched the warmth of Potter's back, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t let himself give into comfort and touch Potter. Potter should only be handled with hands not stained in blood. 

He had to protect Potter from what he was. Shield him from Draco's world, but how? How could he have Potter and still protect him? 

A hand on his jaw brought him out of his swirling thoughts, “Draco, I was so scared for you.” 

An easy smile formed on Draco’s lips, “I’m safe now, we don’t have anything to worry about.” Why was it so easy to lie to Potter? He was so quick to keep the truth from him, to shied Potter away from what he was really like. 

Potter’s hand didn’t move from Draco’s face, “I want to see you soon, can we meet tonight? I have so much to tell you.” 

“I don’t know where we could meet, the Room of Requirement is out of the question.” 

“I have a place in mind, can you meet me tonight?” Potter insistence was gentle. 

“Do you still have the mirror you gave me last year?” 

“Of course I kept it,” Potter conformed, “I’ll reach out to you tonight and we can both use the invisibility cloa-"

Draco’s stomach lurched as the door to the cart started to raddled. 

They were about to be seen. 

Seen together. 

Holding each other. 

The safety that Draco had for a moment was gone in an instant. 

Potter's eye were wide eyed as Draco grabbed his face. With all of his might, Draco slammed his nose on Potter’s forehead. The pain was bright behind his eyes, and Potter’s yelp was heard from whoever was checking the carts has the door was blown open with a powerful spell. 

Draco stumbled backwards from the force of the self-inflicted damage to his now bleeding nose. 

“Fuck off, Potter,” Draco sneered as Potter moved to help him. There was hurt in Potter's eyes. 

Standing in the doorway was a woman with bright pink hair and narrowing eyes. “Tonks, we were just-“ Potter stammered over an explication. 

“Leaving, or at least I was trying to leave,” Draco interrupted, cupping his bleeding nose. 

Tonks studied the two boys, “Let’s get you two to the castle.” 

Draco made to shove pass the woman, only to flinch when she brought her wand up. He instantly moved his arms to protect himself, moving to grab his wand. “And what exactly do you think you’re doing?” he snapped. 

Tonks and Potter both stared at him with surprise on their faces. “I was just going to help you with your nose,” Tonks explained with concerned gentleness.

Idiot. Why would Tonks make a move to attack now? Of course she was only concerned for the bleeding child and here Draco was acting like he expected to be attacked the second his back was turned. “I don’t need help from a blood traitor, keep your help to yourself,” Draco tried to cover his previous display. 

Draco turned, only to hear Potter yell after him, “Draco, your luggage!” 

Draco didn’t stop walking, better to have a house elf retrieve his truck. The cold night air greeted him as he stepped off of the train. Fuck, where was everyone? He spent what felt like five minutes with Potter and they missed the fucking carriages to the castle? 

"Why am I not surprised that it's you getting into trouble?" Severus's familiar voice questioned Draco. Draco turned towards his godfather, only to be met by one risen eyebrow at the sight of his bleeding nose. "Having fun are we?" 

Draco gave Severus a pointed look, but while his relationship with his godfather definitely had gotten more casual, Draco knew better than to give Severus a reason to give him detention. The bastard. 

"Snape, glad you're here. I can trust you to escort these boys back to the castle?" Tonks stepped out of the train followed by Potter. 

"Here's your trunk," Potter laid the large luggage down, shooting Draco a look familiar to a puppy. 

"And what exactly were you two doing to excuse all of us being late to dinner?" Severus articulated. 

"Oh, I caught them necking," Tonks deadpanned. 

A drop of a pen could be heard in the silence that followed. 

Tonks broke the laughter with a high pitched yelp of laughter, "Oi, I was just fu- messing with everyone. Relax boys." 

"Jesus Tonks." 

"Fucking asshole," Draco responded. 

"Language Draco," Severus corrected. 

"Where's my damn trunk-" Draco turned to levitate his trunk. 

"Language," Severus noted. 

"I'll see you later Harry, be safe," Tonks said her goodbye. 

"Bye Tonks," Potter smiled as he waved goodbye. 

"Come on, Potter, we're going to be late for dinner," Draco tried to seem rude. 

"I'm sure the headmaster will hold off dinner for the entire castle for the only Harry Potter," Severus sneered. 

"Really? Fantastic! We can take our time with the walk then," Potter snapped back, his voice too cheerful. 

Severus's shoulders stilled. 

"Potter, shut up and grab your trunk," Draco ordered. 

"Perhaps since you are looking forward to taking your time, you two and walk to the castle instead of taking the carriage," Severus threatened. 

Potter squared his jaw. 

This was not going to go well. "Or I'll grab your trunk for you," Draco muttered as he cast a levitating spell on Potter's trunk. 

"Well I suppose if you aren't up to a bit of a walk, Professor," Potter chided. 

"We'll all end up walking at this rate-" Draco sighed as he made his way to the carriage. 

"You'll end up walking, Potter. As I don’t think you'll be able to fit your big head through the carriage door," Severus snapped back. 

"Gentlemen, can we please get into the fucking carriage? I'm hungry," Draco yelled from the cart. 

"Detention, Draco," Severus commanded at Draco's outburst. Draco was more than happy to distract Severus and Potter. 

The carriage ride to the castle was one of tense silence. 

The castle felt different now. The warmth from the torches was colder. The halls didn't feel welcoming, but suffocating in their weight above the heads of children that had to grow up too fast. Draco tried to enjoy the welcoming ceremony for first years, but there was a lackluster from the Slytherin table that covered any attempted enthusiasm. Draco sat next to Pansy, across from Crabbe and Goyle. 

"Isn't that disgusting?" Pansy mocked as she looked down the large table. Bulstrode sat across Blaise and Theo. "Practically a blood traitor that one," Pansy hissed about Theo. 

"Parkinson, don't spread unnecessary gossip, it's tacky," Draco ordered. Theo looked good. He had grown his hair out over the summer, he was freckled and sun-kissed from summer with the Zabini's in their holiday estate. Ms. Zabini had taken both the boys out of the country the second they stepped off the train for summer vacation. Ms. Zabini was a very intelligent woman. 

The break from his father's abuse gave Theo the room to grow. He had an easy smile about him, one that was only facing Blaise. The summer only allowed Blaise to become even more handsome, having filled out in his jaw and shoulders. Blaise met his gaze then, and gave a friendly wave. 

"Disgusting," Pansy sneered, "I don’t know how you can stand being around him, Draco. He is constantly around that blood-traitor Bulstrode." 

"Pansy-" Draco sighed. 

"What? You know I'm right. Zabini was always around Bulstrode and Greenglass, horrid blood-traitors." 

"With that logic," Draco growled, "you and Daphne were friends. Should I remind you of that?" 

Pansy paled, glancing down. Daphne's death still stung their souls. 

"We're not going to spill blood on gossip so. Keep. Your. Mouth. Shut." Draco ordered. 

Pansy fumed for the rest of dinner, but remained silent. 

Draco tried to soak in his last great feast. He wouldn't be returning for seventh year. 

He probably wouldn't live that long. 

A fact he had accepted. If he accepted his death, he was less afraid while doing his work. Or so he told himself. 

So, he drank in the students chattering, the laughter, the new excitement from the first years. The only way he was going to get through this was by giving little pieces of quiet enjoyment to himself. 

The feast ended too soon. 

"Malfoy, follow me for your detention," Severus approached him before dinner ended. 

"Yes sir," Draco grumbled. 

Draco followed Severus out of the Great Hall. No one paying him much mind. 

As he walked, a pair of furious brown eyes met his. Draco was quick to avoid the look of murder Susan Bones was sending him. Not that he blamed her. 

Severus didn't mutter a word to Draco has they walked through the thick walls of the castle. Severus didn't lead him to his classroom, or the dungeons, but to Dumbledore's office for detention. 

Dumbledore was standing with his back to them as they entered. His hands were clasped behind his back. He was wearing a pair of dark blue robes, simple for his usual style. He met Draco's glare with a gentle smile, "Draco, I'm so glad you could meet me. Would you care for some tea?" He didn’t wait for Draco's answer as he poured two cups from a small floating tray. "That will be all Severus," Dumbledore dismissed. 

Severus hesitated. Giving a look towards Draco that meant he would stay if Draco asked, but Draco shook his head. He knew how to deal with men like Dumbledore. He had been living with his Lord for almost a year now, he wasn't so easily manipulated. His godfather left with an almost apologetic look, but Severus stopped underestimating Draco a long time ago. Draco knew how to stand on his own. He had to. 

Dumbledore had taken his seat in a large armchair next to the fireplace. He motioned for Draco to take the armchair opposite. Draco did has he was told. 

Dumbledore took a sip of his tea, "Congratulations on your promotion." 

Taking his tea from the floating tray, Draco laughed dryly, "Thank you, headmaster. It was well earned." 

That was a lie. His dark mark was earned as a death sentence for his father's failures. They both knew it. 

"Now," Dumbledore had stopped with the pleasantries over the summer. They both knew Draco was only here for Potter. He had no loyalty for Dumbledore. "Let's see how useful you can prove yourself. Let me see what you found out over the summer."  
_  
He didn’t have any loyalty to Dumbledore, he was only doing this for Potter. That didn’t mean he couldn't be a tool for the resistance._

_He would chip away at his Lord's power from the inside out._

_Draco sealed himself into a cold space within himself. He allowed himself to stop feeling. He had his reasons, he didn’t need to prove himself to anyone._

_Kindness is a choice, but it was one Draco didn’t have the privilege in partaking._

_Narcissa wouldn't look at him, but that didn’t mean Draco stopped talking to her. He would assist her in her hosting duties. He did his best to protect her in their home without his father's reach._

_She let him suffer, not offering any condolences._

_He got use to the cold of his home._

_Draco, for the most part, was able to make quick friends with the older Death Eaters that came through his home. He had spilt blood, he wasn't a child to be handled with gloves. He could make quick conversation, and was funny when he wanted to be._

_He got use to putting on whatever mask he needed to._

_Greyback, surprisingly, took to Draco easily. Greyback would buy smokes for Draco in trade for his company and the information Draco had as a Death Eater. They mostly shared just gossip between them, but Greyback was one to flex his power, and Draco could play eager._

_Greyback also showed him how to fight with more than his wand. "Excited to get your hands dirty Draco?" Greyback would tease._

_Draco just needed to know how to cause harm without his wand. Greyback had a point, wizards were practically useless without their wands._

_Draco was allowed to go on missions with other Death Eaters. He didn’t know why, he was underage and couldn't use magic._

_When he was given a pair of simple daggers, Draco's stomach dropped._

_Their Dark Lord was testing the young Malfoy's limits, and Draco rose to the occasion each time._

_He got use to spilling blood._

_Greyback was more than pleased to show Draco how to use knives properly._

_Narcissa drew into herself more and more._

_He got use to hollowing himself out for the cause._

_When Voldemort attacked Amelia Bones, Draco was there._

_When the Millennium Bridge was brought down, Draco was there._

_When his home was turned into a prison of torture and death, Draco was there._  
  
"Interesting." Was all Dumbledore had to say. 

"Yes, well, Greyback and his goons are ones to talk," Draco noted, his tea long cold. 

"This information, Draco, is invaluable. Severus wasn't able to extract this detail of movements," Dumbledore attempted to compliment. 

"All in a couple months work," Draco replied. He didn’t need Dumbledore's approval. 

Dumbledore steadied him with an even look, "How are we going to address your mission, young Malfoy?" 

"Oh, you mean my assignment to kill you?" Draco confirmed nonchalantly. "Did Severus happen to mention that?" 

Dumbledore was a patient man, but his eyes were cold. "How are you going to address this?" Dumbledore asked again. 

Draco sighed, "You're the only one that can fight against my Lord and win, Headmaster." 

"Are you willing to risk your safety by keeping me alive?" 

A cruel laugh escaped Draco before he could be bothered with manners, "Are we going to pretend you care about my safety now, Headmaster? Let us not pretend. Plus, I couldn't kill you if I wanted to." 

"Really? Not even with that dagger strapped to your ribs?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. The fire reflecting against the glass of his readers, covering his eyes. 

"I wouldn't be able to kill you without you wanting me to, sir," Draco stated the facts coolly. 

"Are you saying you won't kill me unless I ask you to?" Dumbledore questioned. 

"Are you saying you'll let me kill you?" Draco questioned back. He was so tired of these expectations. 

"And what would you do if I answered yes?" 

Draco blinked, covering his surprise. What would he do? "I would break your nose, Headmaster. For being such a coward." 

A gentle laugh left Dumbledore. "Isn’t there a bravery to meeting Death like an old friend?" Dumbledore asked himself, gazing into the fire. 

Draco stood, he was done with this line of questioning. "You wouldn't be meeting Death, you would be meeting me."


	2. Chapter 2

Draco laid in his bunk. 

For the first time in months, he didn't need to worry about screams being heard from his basement. He didn’t need to cover his ears to block the torture taking place in his home. What remained of his home. 

Instead, he only worried about making sure his bunk's curtains were tightly shut, and that a silencing spell was placed on his bed. 

He stopped having nightmares a long time ago. His nightmares couldn't match his reality. 

The silencing spell was for quiet whispers across an enchanted mirror. A mirror to a better world than his, a path to Potter. 

He hadn't talked to Potter at all over the summer, too dangerous. He had wanted to. In a way that he could feel in his chest when he allowed himself to think about it, he had wanted to. He had wanted to whisper gentle comforts to Potter. He had wanted to laugh with Potter. He had wanted to be there for Potter. But the world wasn't so kind. 

Would he and Potter still work together? Had Draco changed into such a different person that he and Potter wouldn't be able to talk? Would they still be friends? 

Would Potter still like him? 

Would Potter still want him? 

The thought sent a warm blush up Draco's neck. 

When they had last said goodbye to each other before the summer, Potter had kissed him. Squarely. On the lips. With his mouth. 

Draco, for all intents and purposes, knew how kissing work. He had never actually done the deed. Never properly. Yet… Potter had kissed him. 

With enthusiasm. 

What if Potter didn’t want to do that again? What if Draco was such a horrid kisser, that Potter had realized that he wasn't into men? 

Draco was out of the manor for a day and he was already thinking about kissing Potter. 

To be fair, if Draco had thought about Potter at the wrong time while in the manor, he would be died. 

"Draco…?" A gentle familiar voice whispered from underneath his pillow. 

Draco slipped his hand under his pillow, he pulled out his side of the two-way mirror he had given Potter last year. Potter's green eyes met his, illuminated by the quite white light of his wand. "Are you ready?" 

"Always," Draco smiled at the image of his friend. 

"Bring your cloak, I know a perfect place for us to meet," Potter ordered. 

The quite, dark dorm was easy to slip out of. Draco had changed into some casual robes. The dark blue ones that bring out his eyes. 

No one was in the common room when he stepped out into the hallway. Potter quickly pulled him under the invisibility cloak. "Hi," a brilliant smile greeted him. 

"H…Hey," Draco whispered back, Potter was so close. His wand gently lit the little space between them. 

A warm hand was pressed into Draco's. "Let's go," Potter lead the way. 

Potter kept Draco pulled close to him, his hand sure. Draco thought about the last time someone had touched him with kindness, he was sure it was when Potter had kissed him almost four months ago. 

Kindness was so easy for Potter. As if this simple movement didn’t make a hot blush flush Draco's face. Draco could smell Potter, was he wearing something? Should Draco be wearing cologne? Did his breath stink? Was his palm sweaty? 

His thoughts were pulled from him as he felt a gentle squeeze on his hand, "You're so quiet, what are you thinking about?" 

Is this a date? Draco did not ask. "Are you wearing cologne?" That wasn't much better. 

"Yeah I am," Potter was so casual about it. 

"…why?" Draco questioned. 

"…We have to be quiet, we're out pass curfew." 

Draco didn't press any further. And he didn't point out that Potter was the one that started talking in the first place, so it was really all his fault. He let the moment pass by as they walked in a familiar silence. 

Their footsteps the only sound in the halls as they stayed closer than needed. Draco let Potter lead him where he may as he took in the sight of his castle. He drunk in the place of where he grew up. Where he had his first kiss. Made his first best friend. 

This would be his last year in the castle, he knew this fact in his bones. He would either not make it to breath next year, or he would be clawed into his duties under his Lord. 

But none of that mattered right now, because Potter was holding his hand, and he was wearing cologne, and he wanted to be with Draco. 

Draco just had to prepare himself for when this wasn't his reality, but only a lovely memory that he had to lock away. 

Potter lead him down a winding path that Draco wasn't paying attention to. The realization of where Potter was taking him crept up on Draco like a bad chill. 

As the bricks turned into a dirt ground, Draco knew where Potter was leading him. The Shrieking Shack. 

Potter paused to remove the invisibility cloak from both of them as they entered an empty tunnel. He dropped Draco’s hand as he roughly folded the cloak and tucked it under his arm. The memory of the last time Draco walked down this hall twisted a mourning knife into his gut. 

He had killed Daphne in his home, sliced her throat with a cold sureness that made his mother stop looking at him. The reason why he could be sure, was because he had already killed the Daphne he had known. He sliced into her memories to remove information that would give him away has a traitor, but by doing so cut a piece of her soul out. 

He didn’t want to go any farther. 

“Draco, are you ready?” Potter held out his hand. Draco looked at the simple gesture, jealousy tore into him. How was Potter able to offer this to him so easily? Why was it so hard for Draco to accept kindness that was offered to him? 

Potter’s hand dropped, “Sorry, we can just walk.” Potter’s face was one of such kind understanding, but his cheeks darkened in color. 

“It’s not that,” Draco explained quietly as he took Potter’s hand. 

Potter didn’t move forward, “We don’t have to, it’s ok, promise.” 

“I want to,” Draco squeezed Potter’s hand, “I promise.” 

Potter studied Draco, Draco met his eyes. What was Potter looking for? Eventually, he must have found whatever clue it was, because Potter continued to lead to way. 

“Do I get to know where we’re going now?” Draco tried to lighten the mood. 

“You can guess,” Potter smiled. 

“Ok...let’s see...what is a place that would get you in the most trouble if you were found there?” Draco joked. “Hmm... the Forbidden Forest?” 

“Been there, done that,” Potter giggled. 

“Ah, yes, how can I forget second year? And last year? And....third year?” mocked Draco. 

“You forget this year.” 

“Already? So soon into the school year? Potter, we got here only seven hours ago.” 

“It’s not so bad,” Potter shrugged. 

“Because giant spiders classify as ‘not so bad’,” Draco pointed out. 

"Giant spiders classify as, 'ok so long as they aren't trying to eat you'," Potter corrected in a very serious tone. 

"And that statement classifies as, 'concerning: but I'm too scared to ask," Draco responded. 

"It has to do with the flying car Ron drove into the Forbidden Forest." 

"Merlin…that, doesn't explain anything Potter. But so long as you're not taking me to the forest that students are, for good reason, not allowed in, I think we can manage," Draco teased. 

"Like I would take my bo- ah, my acquaintance-" 

"Your what?" 

"My, ah," Potter was blushing a dark color that Draco could make out even with the dim light, "my friend-" 

"No, hold on Potter I could have sworn you called me-" 

"Oh! Look at me! I'm Harry Potter and I'm a massive dickhead!" Potter avoided, his eye were wide in embarrassed panic. 

Draco reached out, he grabbed Potter by the shoulder to face him. "Hey…" Draco could hear the breath leave Potter as Draco steadied him with a look. "…I am so proud you would call me an acquaintance-" 

"I hate you so much," Potter walked ahead. 

"Really, I never been an acquaintance before, I'm a little nervous-" 

"You are such a dick!" Potter shouted over his shoulder. Draco had to jog to keep up with him. 

Potter broke into a run when he heard Draco behind him. "Potter! You have got to be joking."

The door to the shack slammed shut behind Potter. Draco bumped into the door a little harder than what was needed. When was the last time he had this much fun? "Potter!" Draco shouted at the thin wooden door. 

"Yes? Can I help you?" a high picked voice met Draco. 

"What's that supposed to be?" Draco asked through his laughter. He felt dizzy in how light he was. 

"It's my old lady voice-" Potter explained before making his voice high "-who is it?" 

"Um…" Draco couldn't stop laughing, "it's-" 

"What was that? I already have a vacuum, I don’t need a new one." 

"What's a vacuum?" 

Potter broke into a loud laughter at that comment before he opened the door. He lead against the doorframe casually as he stifled his giggling. "Oh, Malfoy, what a surprise," Potter noted. 

"Oh, am I?" Draco played along as he leaned against the other side of the doorframe. 

"Why, yes, I wasn't expecting you. I would have cleaned up," Potter stepped into the shack as he motioned around the dusty house. "I hope you don't mind a bit of mess." 

Draco followed Potter in as he smiled. "I don’t mind at…all…" His words trailed off as he entered the main room of the house. 

"Ah, yes well, let me just tidy a bit here-" Potter rushed around as he tried to clean a place for them to sit. 

_Ribbons of crimson laced into blond hair. Unseeing eyes looking at him, but not seeing._

_The pounding rain hadn't stopped for almost a week now. The sound clawed against Draco's skull. His body was sore from the missions he had be ordered to performed. Aunt Bella said their Lord was testing his strength, Draco was sure this was punishment._

_He hadn't slept for more than ten hours the last four days. His body was raw from fighting without magic. He had stopped trying to clean the blood from underneath his nails. Food started to all taste like chalk in how exhausted he was in his bones._

_Sleep had been avoiding Draco. He had stopped dreaming a while ago. Was that a consequence of near constant Occlumency?_

_The rain continued._

_Draco rose from bed to walk to his bookshelf. He pulled a random book off the shelf to try to relax his mind._

_Draco paused at the sight of a looming figure at his window as he turned around. Long blond hair plastered down its back and skull, it looked like a ghost. Its limbs clinging to the window frame to look into Draco's room in the second story._

_There was an anger that boiled underneath his skin then. He opened his window with slow control._

_“Get in,” he ordered it._

_The pale body climbed into his room. It’s movements fluid, but unhuman as it crawled in the room on all four limbs. Draco’s heart pounded in his chest as he studied it for the first time. It’s hair covered it’s face, as it didn’t have the wish to see comfortably. It’s clothes were muddied and torn. It’s pale blue dress had fallen of one shoulder, exposing a pale bra strap with blue ribbon. It rose from all fours to stand on its two feet._

_He reached out, he had just wanted some sleep, some peace. It didn’t flinch as he moved the hair out of its face. Clouded blue eyes stared at him without emotion pass filth. He pushed it out of his way as he went to his desk. Undead eyes followed him. He could feel them looking at him. Did it want to hurt him, deep down? Does a body remember how it died?_

_“Go into the bathroom,” Draco didn’t turn around. Silence._

_A shiver went up his spine, it was right behind him, he knew it. It was right behind him, barely touching, deciding how it want to kill the man that took its life._

_He turned when he could take it anymore, a pair of scissors clutched in his hand. Nothing._

_It had went to the bathroom without complaint silently. Draco pushes down the horrid panic that had started to choke him. His hand was shaking when he went into the bathroom. It stood in the center of the white tiled private lavatory. Its feet had dirtied the floor with dark footprints of mud._

_Draco grabbed as much of the long blond hair in his fist as he could. He made to cut as close to the skull as possible. He couldn’t stop shaking._

_Daphne’s face met his, uncaring._

_Draco didn’t make the cut. He withdrew the scissors from near its scalp as he let go of its long hair._

_He just needed some sleep, but how could he when his greatest sin started up at him?_

_He grabbed his comb and started to brush its hair. Twigs, dirt and blood were tangled into the long hair that use to belong to his friend. Draco took his time untangling the wet mound on top of its head. It made no sound when its hair was pulled, but Draco was careful anyway. The knots fell away one by one as he made his way down the long hair. He eventually switched tactics and started from the bottom up when his attempts to untangle its hair just made more tangles. Eventually, matted hair have way to straight._

_Mud and bits of blood were still caught in the hair, but Draco put that aside has he took the scissors from where he left them on the sink._

_The same sink where he washed the blood from his hands after he had killed Daphne._

_He adjusted the part to directly down the middle of its scalp. Daphne had always parted her hair on the side, said her face was too oval to have a middle part. The distinction would let Draco have some peace. He made to first cut about an inch before its chin._

_Daphne had loved her hair, she would never had cut it short. She had mentioned once that she wanted to shave a side of her head for fun, but she never had the chance._

_Long strips of blond muddied hair covered its shoulders and body, but it didn’t move to scratch. It looked different from Daphne now, at least, out of the corner of his eye Draco could pretend that it was just another Death Eater. He pulled the dress up to fully cover its shoulder. The dress dark with stained blood._

_He went to the bedroom to grab his wand from under his pillow. Muddied footsteps followed him out. His stomach turned as he heard the gentle sound of wet shoes hitting his wooden floor. It was right behind him when he turned around, his wand in hand. Impassive staring from dead clouded eyes met his. Does a body remember how it died?_

_He transformed the stained pale blue dress into simple dark robes. A high neckline would allow for movement without the worry of a sleeve sliding off. It would also hide the deep slit in the body’s neck. Draco reaches around and lifted the hood of the robes to cover its face. “Always have this hood up,” he ordered. It gave no response._

_He stepped back to observe it. It looked different now, objectively better. With the hood up and long dark robes covering most of it, Draco could pretend it was something else than a constant reminder of his murder, of her suicide._

_“Go back to protecting the manor.”_

_It went out his bedroom door instead of the window._

“Hey,” a hand on his back brought him out of this thoughts. “Where did you go?” Potter asked. 

Draco turned to face him, “Nowhere, I’m right here with you.” Potter smiled out him, a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. 

He was trying to put Draco at ease. “I cleared a spot where we can sit,” Potter motioned to the window. There was an almost sturdy wooden bench in front of the window. Potter had even managed to get most of the dust off. 

“What a gentleman,” Draco took a seat on the bench. A loud creak caused him to pause, but the bench held his weight. 

“Is that a compliment? Are you impressed?” Potter teased. He slowly lowered his weight onto the bench next to Draco, surprised when the piece of furniture stayed intact. 

“I’m always impressed when you show manners,” Draco lit a smoke with a pale blue zippo lighter. He could feel his left sleeve drag up his arm with the movement, he watched as Potter's eyes fall to his left exposed wrist. "I charmed the sleeve to keep my arm covered," Draco explained to a question Potter wouldn't ask. "After Madam Malkin's, I wanted to make sure I didn't have to worry about being arrested because of a wardrobe malfunction." 

"So…that’s it then?" Potter face was hard to read. 

Draco cracked the window with a wave of his wand. "That's it then. Full Death Eater now." He kept his eyes on Potter as he smoked, watching his reaction to Draco's harsh words. 

"Congratulations on your promotion."

He shouldn't laugh, he really shouldn't. The situation is not one to laugh at. He did anyway. Potter started to laugh gently too. 

"Can I see?" Potter asked. 

Draco gave him his arm with ease. Potter was focused when he unbuttoned Draco's sleeve to expose skin. Draco turned his head to look out the window, smoke filed out into the moonlight. He had stared at the dark mark enough. The gentle night was quiet. 

A light touch caused Draco's skin to rise. "Sorry, is this ok?" Potter's movement froze when Draco had taken a glance at the feeling. 

"It's okay," Draco whispered, his voice weak. He watched as Potter gently traced the dark scar that was branded into Draco's skin. He didn't look at the mark with any particular disgust, just observance. Potter probably would never have a chance to study a dark mark this close. A shiver ran up Draco's spine. How could Potter be so tender with the scar on Draco's arm? Draco could barely look at the blemish on his skin without his stomach turning. 

"My father is proud from his comfortable cell," Draco avoided Potter's continuing care. 

"Have you seen him?" Potter laid his hand on the mark as he looked up at Draco. His other hand entered Draco's, holding him. Grounding him. All of Potter's attention focused on Draco, who still smoked with his free hand. "If you want to talk about it." 

Draco shrugged, "There's not much to talk about, he was arrested. He's in Azkaban." 

"I'm sorry." 

Draco squeezed Potter's hand, "Don't be, I'm the one that broke his leg." 

"You broke his leg?" 

"…I thought you knew," Draco sighed. Potter didn't need more reason to feel guilty. 

"I didn't have Ron for Hermione send me copies of the paper over the summer," Potter explained. 

"Ah, for the best, I suppose." 

"I'm…I never meant to put you in this situation," Potter looked so regretful. 

"You didn't put me through this," Draco insisted, "I would have had this mark on my arm with or without you." 

Potter turned his head as he looked out the window. His hand still on Draco's arm, as if he was reminding Draco that his skin was still his own, even if he was branded. 

The two sat in comfortable silence as Draco finished the cigarette, putting it out on the window sill. "How was your summer?" 

Potter shrugged, "Kinda boring until Dumbledore showed up." 

"Really? You didn't get arrested or…?" 

"No, not this summer," Potter explained before going into his recent adventures with Dumbledore. How Dumbledore used Potter as a carrot on a stick to talk Slughorn into teaching at Hogwarts again. Draco's thoughts, not Potters. "Were you invited to his private dinner?" Potter asked. 

"Ha, absolutely not." 

"Why the attitude?" 

"Potter, Slughorn wouldn't ask me to be a member of his club of slugs," Draco said. 

"Slug club." 

"Not much better." 

"Why not? You're smart, from a good family-" 

"My father was arrested for being a Death Eater." 

"That shouldn't mean you're not included, you're not your father," Potter pouted. 

"Potter, I'm a Death Eater," Draco pointed out. 

Potter squeezed his forearm from where he still had his hand, "Only technically." 

"That's a pretty big technicality," Draco couldn't stop the warmth that spread in his chest. Potter saw him for what he was, and he wasn't horrified by him. Potter didn't know he should be. 

Potter pulled Draco closer to him, moving their clasped hands to rest on his chest as he absentmindedly moved his hand over Draco's forearm as he looked out the window. 

Draco studied Potter as his mind took him somewhere else. He was so determined to remind Draco he was something else besides the legacy of darkness he was given. 

"Where are you going?" he called Potter backed to him. 

Potter didn't move to look at him, but his hand didn't stop the gentle touch on Draco's dark mark. "I'm right here, I was just thinking." 

"Do you want to talk about it?" 

"It's alright, you have enough to worry about," Potter dodged the question. 

"Harry…" How to tell someone what they are worth? "You're worth the worry." Draco settled on. 

"You're so romantic," Potter joked. "…I just…I don't know, I just wish you could join slug club." 

"It's not like we would be able to talk to each other," Draco tried to make Potter feel better. 

"I know that, obviously I know that, Draco," Potter snapped. Draco stayed quiet. He didn’t know how to make this better. Maybe Potter would be better off he didn’t have to worry about Draco. "I'm sorry," Potter signed, "Draco, I just…after Sirius, I just don't want anyone else to die for me. And when I didn’t hear anything from you over the summer-" 

"It's not like I had a choice." 

"I know, that's what I'm telling you, I know all of this!" Potter let go of Draco's hand then. "I know that you didn’t have a choice to become a Death Eater, I know you couldn't talk to me over the summer, I know you are in a dangerous place right now… but…" Potter struggled for words. 

Draco's heart broke a little bit at the sight of him. "It doesn't make this easier, Potter." 

"I was so scared I wasn't going to see you again," Potter explained. "I was terrified all summer that I would come back to school, and you wouldn't be there. And that would be it. That’s where we ended. I would never know what happened to you. And no one would know how you stood for what was right. And… you deserve better than that." 

"Potter, I'm sorry-" 

"Draco, that's not what I mean-" Potter stood then as he rubbed his face. 

Draco watched as Potter walked away from him. The weight was heavy on Potter's shoulders. What did Potter want from him? What did Draco want from Potter? He wanted Potter to be safe. That was it. Draco wanted Potter to be okay, and Draco knew Potter was safe over the summer. 

Potter didn't have the same privilege. 

As he stood, he understood some of what Potter was going through. 

Draco walked towards Potter, interrupting his stammered apology as he wrapped his arms around shaking shoulders. 

Potter tried to push him away, "No, I don’t want you to be burdened with me-"

"You’re not a burden," Draco hugged him tighter. Potter laid his head on Draco's shoulder. He held him firmly as he tried to prove to Potter that he wanted him to lay his worries on Draco. He could care for him. He wanted to. 

"I'm being stupid," Potter faced Draco, but Draco kept his hands on Potter's back. Potter's hands were rested on his shoulders. Green glassy eyes met Draco's, and he was reminded by how close they were. 

Draco gave him a reassuring smile. He was met with a tired smile back, but Potter was standing so close. 

Was he worth Potter? Was he good enough to be the person Potter goes to when crying? 

He could feel Potter’s hands move from his shoulders to touch his face. 

How hurt is Potter going to be when he discovers how many people Draco has killed? That he killed Daphne? That he killed many more people over the summer from orders of his Lord? 

Potter’s hand moved to the back of his neck. 

Would Potter still care for him when he discovers that he was a coward? Someone to bow at the knee to kiss the boot that would kick him in the teeth? 

Potter’s breath was warm as he brought his lips to Draco’s. 

There was so much blood on his hands, and he couldn’t blame no one else but himself. 

Draco turned his head away from the kiss. 

Potter was so kind, saying that Draco was only a Death Eater by technicality. He knew better. He knew that whatever made his father into a Death Eater, was also in him. He was twisted in a way that Potter would recoil, retch at the idea of even touching Draco. 

“What’s wrong?” Potter still had his hands on him. Potter was leaning into him. He looked so concerned. 

Draco’s stomach turned at the proximity. His skin crawled with Potter’s touch. He needed to get away, he wasn’t worth this kindness. “Nothing,” he lied, “I...it’s...” The words caught in his throat. A glance at Potter’s hurt expression made the words fumble as Draco tried to think of an excuse. 

“Yeah...yeah, okay.” Potter grabbed his cloak from the bench by the window. “It’s getting late, let’s get back to the castle.”

Draco could admit many things. 

He could admit that he had…underestimated the trauma that he had experience. He could admit that he hadn't thought of every reaction he could have when with Potter. Even if Potter was the object of his affection, he was also the focal point of the Dark Lord's obsession. 

So, Draco had underestimated what being in a safe environment could do to his tight grip on his emotions. A stupid mistake, but one he could learn from. He could give himself that kindness. He could admit he needed to be kind to himself. 

He could also admit that Potter was so gentle with him when they met last night. Potter was good, kind. 

Draco could also admit that Potter was a huge dickhead when he lost his temper, and he had a lot to be angry about. 

Sure, finding out that Snape was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was probably a punch to the gut. And, Potter was probably a little jaded at Draco's rejection last night. Also, Potter was being hunted by the Dark Lord, was criminalized by the media and so on so on… Potter had a lot to make him angry, Draco knew this, Draco accepted this. 

This doesn’t mean that Draco approved of Potter's actions. Such as throwing a spell back at Snape during the first class of the year. 

It must have been a new record to get detention the first half hour of the school year. 

Snape had honestly given Draco a look when Potter was finished mouthing off. Nothing obvious to the rest of the class, but Draco understood it as 'you talk to him.' 

Draco absolutely would not talk to Potter, he was very busy avoiding Potter. Thank you very much. 

Potter did not like being ignored. 

Draco tried not to physically tense whenever Potter entered Slughorn's class late. Draco sat at the back of the class. He didn’t like the way Slughorn looked at him, like a Death Eater. 

He also didn't like the way Potter paused when he saw one of the only two empty seats in the classroom was next to Draco. 

Draco rolled his eyes while giving Potter a shrug, crossing his arms. 

A small smile from Potter warmed Draco's chest. 

"Can I help you, Zabini?" Draco warned whenever Blaise took a seat next to him on the couch of the Slytherin common room. 

"Dear me, is someone upset because they lost to Potter?" 

"I don’t know what you're talking about." 

"Potter. Out of all the people. He isn't even good at potions, is he?" Blaise continued to rub the sore spot. 

"I didn't lose to Potter. He cheated." Draco corrected as he shut his book. 

"So you are upset that you lost to Potter."

"Didn't lose."

"Granger I can understand, but Potter-" 

"Do you want something?" Draco snapped. 

Blaise rolled his eyes, "Don’t make me feel cheap, Malfoy. I got what you needed. It's on your trunk." Draco handed over the money he owed. "Do I want to ask why you couldn't go shopping yourself?" 

"I don't think the Weasleys would approve of my presence in their little shop." 

"That's a generous understatement." 

"I'm feeling generous," Draco commented. 

"Ever the fantastic conversationalist," Blaise snapped. 

Draco opened his book so he didn't have to make conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always @CarpeBellum on tumblr


	3. Chapter 3

_Draco stopped where he stood._

_His soul felt wrong standing here. He couldn't give Daphne piece._

_He hadn't been able to give her the privilege of even remembering her own bravery. He wasn't able to put her body to rest, making her into a puppet. He wanted to give her some sliver of closure. Even though she had died, her memory should be a blessing to others._

_Yet, Draco was constantly tarnishing Daphne._

_He was a dog pissing where he shouldn't._

_"You're not one to be shy," Narcissa had turned around when Draco had stopped walking up the gravel walkway. He couldn't read her expression. She was dressed in dark maroon and had her hair up._

_Draco continued up the walkway towards the white house with large windows._

_His mother had him knock on their door._

_Astoria was the one who answered._

_He had expected her to have changed. He didn't know how he thought she would have changed. Appear older, perhaps? She seemed too young to have so much tragedy in her life._

_Narcissa put on her simple politeness despite the frigid situation. Draco was thankful for the small mercies his mother allowed him. Having to be the one to great this house, the people that lived within its hearth, was a duty he wasn't interested in performing._

_Astoria lead them through the house to the gardens without saying a word._

_There was a stubbornness in Astoria's attitude that surprised Draco. She remained silent despite his mother's greeting, but didn't avoid Draco's gaze. The fire that had been in her eyes when she tried to stone him was gone._

_Draco had to stop a gasp at the sight of Daphne's mother. His chest tightened at the sight of her. She had her hair down, it was shorter than Daphne's had been and was flecked with slight graying. The resemblance was remarkable and unnerving. Would Daphne had looked like this if she had made it to adulthood?_

_"We're so pleased you both accepted the invitation," Mr. Greenglass greeted._

_"We were pleased to receive the invitation," Narcissa said. She stood as far away from her son as she could. "As surprised as we were."_

_"Ah, well, yes. We just wanted to clear the air, so it were," Mr. Greenglass ringed his hands together._

_"So it were," Mrs. Greenglass repeated. Her voice was pained, she hated to be in this situation. She wasn't afraid to let everyone know her feelings._

_Silence._

_Draco could feel the sight of his mother's stare on him. He didn't look over. He knew what he glare looked like._

_The silence grew tense._

_Someone needed to break the quiet before Draco was hexed by Mrs. Greengrass. Her hatred for him blistered into his skin. How dare he enter this home? How dare he further defile the memory of her oldest daughter? How dare he take Daphne away from her?_

_Well Draco wasn't going to say anything._

_"Tea is served," a small house elf entered the room carrying a tea tray that was much too large for their frail hands. The sound of porcelain clinking together broke the silence. The wrinkled elf shuffled towards the seating area. Glasses clinking together loudly as tiny steps were taken toward the table. Eventually, Mr. Greenglass stepped over to take the tray from the old elf. He placed the tray of tea on the small table before standing next to his seat._

_Five seats were tucked into the white table with delicate carvings. A nice table. A spring table._

_No one moved to sit._

_Draco looked up, waiting for Mr. Greenglass to sit._

_Everyone was looking at him._

_Draco was the head of the household now. He was a visitor to a new home, yet everyone knew he was in charge._

_Everyone else seated themselves after he sat down._

_Astoria poured the tea. She served Draco first. Narcissa next. Then her own father and mother before sitting down._

_Mr. Greenglass took lead in starting conversation. Narcissa was polite enough participate. Mrs. Greenglass glared at Draco with a hate that would never leave her._

_He did the smart thing and stayed fucking quiet._

_The grownups did their talking. Draco would have sworn he smelt cigarette smoke. The weather was discussed. Then Hogwarts, the state of the education system._

_These gardens had splashes of color all around them. Roses, mostly, but Draco wasn't versed in the art of plants. Even with his lack of knowledge, he could enjoy the bright colors that covered the gardens._

_"My apologizes for my son, he seems to have forgotten his manners."_

_Draco blinked. His mother was speaking to Astoria. "I must have," he acknowledged, "what was the discussion?"_

_"I was wondering if you wanted to see me play," Astoria explained, her eyes downcast._

_"Of course."_

_Astoria stood from her seat, she motioned for Draco to follow her. Astoria lead him into the music room with a large grand piano. The windows were opened into the gardens. They weren't alone, their parents could hear their conversation with ease._

_What was this?_

_Astoria motioned for him to share the bench with her. He sat as far as he could from her._

_She wasn't very good at piano. She was actually quite horrible. "I usually play the violin," Astoria whispered over the pitiful sounds of the piano._

_"Why am I here, Astoria?" Draco cut to the matter at hand. They didn't have the pleasure of time. Astoria pounded the keys. Her lips tight like Daphne used to when she just wanted to throw something. Her frustration turned into something else as her touch lightened on the keys. Something that could be considered soft drifted from the room to the gardens through the open windows._

_Not soft enough to allow their parents to hear them._

_"Someone was looking into my window last night," she stated. She never faltered in her playing has she told him this._

_His stomach curdled with this revelation._

_"Dad is having me move into Daphne's old room upstairs, but I don’t think it'll be enough," she explained._

_"Is that why I'm here?" Draco asked. He had to be sure._

_"Mom thinks it'll help if we 'reintroduce ourselves to society.' "_

_"Your mother is awfully optimistic."_

_"My mother is terrified of having her only child killed," Astoria snapped._

__

"Good morning," Draco greeted whenever Astoria came down the stairs from the girl's dorm. 

"Hi Draco," Alfie waved from her spot next to Astoria. 

"What do you want?" Astoria interrupted. 

Draco smiled, "I thought I would walk you to breakfast." 

"Oh, did you?" 

"I did." 

Alfie looked between the two of them. "Um, I think I left my glitter pens upstairs," she explained as she left. 

"What the fuck are glitter pens?" Draco asked, mostly to himself. 

"What are you doing?" Astoria demanded. 

"I am walking you to breakfast," he stated. 

Astoria rolled her eyes, but moved to step beside Draco as he lead them to the Great Hall. 

"I don’t need you to protect me," she defended. 

"No, but appearing to put in the work doesn't hurt." 

"Is this because my Dad asked you to?" 

_Tea was a pleasant enough affair. When he was able to sneak away, Draco stepped from the outside table and walked the gardens of the Greenglass home._

_Colors of roses scattered the pathways of the well cared for yards. The smell was bright, and the weather was warm. More love showed here than any of the halls of the Malfoy manor._

_"I wouldn't take you for one who would care for roses." Draco didn’t recognize Mr. Greenglass's voice, but he was a quiet man in what could be considered a quiet body. Nothing about him seemed special or out of the ordinary. He was just a parent in morning._

_"They're beautiful," was all Draco could say._

_Mr. Greenglass was a blank canvas. He was not biting, like his wife. He was not stubborn, like either of his daughters. He appeared to blend in to any crowd or background he was in._

_He put Draco on edge._

_Draco wasn't in a state to underestimate any person. Especially men that did not stand out. What could Mr. Greenglass want with the person who killed his child? The list Draco came up with was short._

_Stupid. He should never have left himself vulnerable like this. He didn’t have time to make mistakes. He didn’t have the privilege for incompetence. He was weak. He was foolish. He was a dead man._

_He pulled himself out of his panic. His heart was slamming. Mr. Greenglass was talking about something…_

_"-a lot of people believe that roses are difficult to grow-"_

_Flowers. He was talking about fucking flowers._

_"-after you figure out how to propagate them properly-"_

_God damnit. It turns out one of the few subjects that Mr. Greenglass would say more than four words in was his garden. Draco allowed himself to be lead around as he was taught more about roses and pH levels than he cared to know._

_Draco listened to Mr. Greenglass explain his approach to gardening. He had a calming voice. Draco found himself at ease listening to soothing talk, more at ease than he had felt in a very long time. What was the point of this conversation? "A lot of people believe that roses need so much care and special attention, but really all they need is love," concluded Mr. Greenglass. He steadied Draco with a look._

_Mr. Greenglass wasn't a talking man, but he was trying to tell Draco something. How was Daphne raised by this man who couldn't communicate? Did she had to overcompensate for the lack communication between them? Draco took out a smoke and lit it with a light blue zippo lighter._

_Draco watched as eyes followed his movement to light the cigarette. Recognition lit up Mr. Greenglass's face as Draco held his gaze. A different look came over Mr. Greengrass. One that told Draco a very different story about this man._

_A look that told Draco this man was much more than a quiet man with a fondness for roses._

_"Astoria told me what you did for her," Mr. Greengrass confided. "Protecting her from being discovered as a member of the DA."_

_Draco remained silent. He just smoked as he studied the father of the girl he murdered._

_"It was good of you to protect us after Daphne's death."_

_"What do you want?" Draco was in over his head. Who was he dealing with? Mr. Greengrass was meant to blend into the background. Which means he either was raised by parents like Draco was, or he was practiced at being unnoticed._

_"I-I want…" Mr. Greengrass studied him with a look. They were a risk to reach other and both new it. "I want you to look after Astoria, please."_

_Draco stepped back. A coil tightening in his stomach. "I'm can't-"_

_"Please," Mr. Greengrass begged him, "please, we only have one daughter left. I can't protect her."_

"I love how much your tight little family fucking gossips," Draco snaps. 

Astoria steadied him with a look but remained silent. 

Fuck. He had to remember that she wasn't her sister. She wouldn't call him out on his shit. 

"That wasn't fair," he admitted. 

She accepted the apology he didn’t give. Why couldn’t he apologize to her? 

They walked together to the Great Hall. Draco walked closer than he normally would to just an acquaintance. He let their arms brush as he showed casual interest in Astoria. 

"How's Alfie?" Draco tried to make nice conversation. 

"Do we have to do that?" Astoria's voice was quiet. 

"…No. We just have to make sure to play nice. It'll be helpful to be seen together every one in a while." 

Students started to mill around them as the pair walked through the brick halls. Their peers that seemed so young to Draco now. 

"I don’t want to be your friend," Astoria stated. "I don't want you to try and make me like you." 

"Just being polite," Draco sighed. "We have to tolerate each other, make appearances." 

"And then they'll leave my family alone?" 

No. Your family are traitors and the target is painted in blood. "Yeah, they should leave your family in peace," she was easy to lie to. 

"Fine." 

Draco left Astoria to sit alone when they arrived to breakfast. No reason to make the girl suffer more than she needed to. He never found out who was terrorizing the Greengrass family. After a couple of visits from him with the proper signs of courtship, they were left alone. 

Everyone got what they wanted. The Greengrass's were allowed to live, and Draco got to keep a closer eye on Astoria. She had already told her father of his involvement in saving her life, but who else did she tell? Perhaps a well place spell on her memory would help the situation.

Could she be trusted if she lost the memory of Draco's involvement in saving her life? Without that memory, he was just the man who killed her sister. If she could plummet him with rocks knowing he saved her life, she might just kill him without that knowledge. Her hate for him ran deep, but her love for her parents ran deeper. He had to rely on the fact that she was a scared girl, who just wanted to protect her parents. 

He would have to ignore the bit where she would kill him if she had the chance, but the list of people who wanted him dead was going, so what was one more name? 

"Hi Dracy, how's your morning going?" Pansy greeted him. She had started to style her hair differently. A slight curl softened her usual thick straight hair. The waves framing her face in an attractive manner. How much time did she spend making herself seem soft these days? 

"I'm fine Pansy," Draco avoided discussing Astoria. 

"Is there something I can do to make your morning better?" she asked as she slid into the space next to him, a hand sliding up his arm. 

"Come up with a better nickname." 

Pansy giggled. Actually giggled at his comment. What was happening? 

Thankfully, the mail arrived. A brown owl landing in front of Draco's breakfast. A simple white envelope was in the owl's beak. 

Draco slipped the envelope into his pocket without looking at the letter inside. 

"Who's that from?" Pansy asked, "another of your secrete admirers?" 

"Something like that." 

"Is their someone you have your eye on?" Pansy stroked his shoulder. 

"Ah, well…" he trailed off. 

Draco doesn’t believe in miracles, but he was grateful to see Crabbe and Goyle when they arrived for breakfast. 

Draco waited outside of the Common Room. There was no torches lit and the darkness hugged close to Draco. Potter had slipped Draco a note during potions class asking to meet tonight. He was nervous, how was he supposed to talk to Potter after the night a couple of days ago? 

'Hi Potter, so glad to see you. I very much want to kiss you, but I think it would be best if we never talked again because you will probably end up hating me,' seemed a little long winded and too complicated.

Plus, Draco was selfish enough to cling to this as long as he could. How could he not? Potter was his lifeline to knowing there was actual genuine good in this world. And… Potter wanted him. Draco was never wanted before, never sought after. Draco's life had always been a give and take for power, for privilege of being a Malfoy. Potter would like him even if he wasn't a Malfoy. 

"Hey," a cloth touched the back of his hand. Draco ducked as Potter covered him with the invisibility cloak. 

"I am a Prefect, Potter. I'm allowed out at night." 

"I know, but…" Potter smiled. He was wearing cologne again. 

They didn't hold hands as they made their way to the Shrieking Shack. 

"So… dueling a professor on the first day of school," Draco brought up whenever they were sure they wouldn't be interrupted.

"He deserved it," Potter pouted. 

"I'm not saying he didn't, it was just very bold to start the year off by dueling a professor." 

"I can't believe he's the new DA professor," Potter complained. "What was Dumbledore thinking?" 

"I'm sure they conspire against you to make sure you are always miserable." 

"It feels like it," Potter opened the door to shack. Draco shoved his feelings about being here aside. 

Potter slumped onto the bench in front the window with a bit too much force. The bench creaked loudly in protest of the weight. 

"I got you something," Draco pulled out the wrapped gift from underneath his cloak. 

"What's this for?" Potter asked as he took the present. 

Draco gently sat next to Potter. "I missed your birthday over the summer." 

"You didn't have to get me anything." 

"I know that Potter, I wanted to." 

Potter unwrapped the package to reveal a dark green over cloak. The collar was high and had simple lining and clasp. "It's enchanted," he explained. "It'll always keep you pleasantly warm and there is some protective magic. Nothing fancy, but it should help in a pinch." 

"And green brings out my eyes," Potter joked. 

"And green brings out your eyes," Draco agreed. 

The two shared a quiet moment between them over gentle smiles. Potter reached out and squeezed his hand. 

"Draco, listen… I want to talk about a couple of nights ago." 

"Ok," Draco's stomach flipped, "what did you want to talk about?" 

"I'm sorry if I misread what… we are…" Potter struggled for the words. 

"Harry, I- you didn't misread anything," Draco's cheeks flushed. "I just- I do have feelings for you, I think they're pretty apparent. Everything is just so…complicated." 

"And dangerous," Potter stated. 

"…and dangerous," Draco agreed. 

"Is it… are we safe to be friends?" Potter asked. 

A weight settled on Draco's chest. His hands felt clammy. "No, but I'll always be in danger, Harry. Even without our relationship." 

Potter sighed, "I wish I could keep you safe." 

"I wish I could keep you safe too." 

"Will you do me a favor?" Potter asked. 

"Of course." 

"Will you ask Dumbledore to keep you safe?" Potter held his hand tightly. "I've already asked, but he said you didn't want his help." 

Draco could feel the coil of hatred he had for that man tighten a little bit more. "I'll think about it. I promise." 

Potter studied his expression, Draco tried his best to give him a reassuring smile. "I can tell when you're lying, you know," Potter pleaded. 

He would always hurt Potter, Draco realized then. Maybe one day, if they both survived whatever the future held for them, Draco would be able to be someone Potter cares for without harming him. 

Today was not that day. 

That day may never come for them. 

Was he a good enough man to let Harry go? 

He was not that man today. 

That day may never come for him. 

"I'm sorry," Draco went along with the lie Dumbledore had prepared. 

"Me too," Potter stated, but he didn't seem angry. Draco realized he just seemed sad. Potter was already grieving him, he was preparing himself for the day when Draco wouldn't return. 

"Has Dumbledore gotten onto about fighting a professor on the first day of school?" 

Potter allowed Draco to change the subject. "Not yet, but you seem to be bring it up enough." 

"Well, someone has to make sure the Harry Potter has to follow some of the school rules," Draco teased. 

"Oh don't worry, Professor McGonagall already gave me a talking to." 

"Never mind then, that's punishment enough." 

"Dumbledore does want to start private lessons with me though," Potter confided. 

He wants to keep a closer eye on you to make sure his grooming to going according to his plain. "I'm sure he has quiet the lesson plain created." 

_Draco remained crouched behind the large bush. He was grateful he hadn't worn his usual long cloak as the mud and damp seeped into his leather boots._

_Through the rain that hid the moon of the night, he was still able to make out the dim warm light inside the simple home. He had been tasked to watch the house and the woman that lived there. He had been waiting when she arrived home from work. He had watched as different lights were turned on as she enjoyed her home alone._

_Amelia Bones lived a simple life despite her high station in the ministry. She had decided to live secluded in the country. Which meant that the Dark Lord wanted her killed in her home._

_Draco had taken the risk to pass this information onto Severus whenever he had gotten the news. His stomach had dropped whenever Madam Bones still returned home this evening. Why hadn't the Order stepped in? Perhaps this was a trap to arrest Death Eaters?_

_The unknowing sent panic sharply down Draco's spine. This wasn't going to end well._

_"Hey kid, how's everything going?" a familiar guttural voice spoke as the dark figure settled next to Draco from behind his hiding spot._

_"How do these things usually go?" Draco complained to Greyback._

_"They're ready for you if you are," Greyback ignored Draco._

_If the dark of night didn't hide the pair as they walked along the tree line, the heavy rain would obscure them enough for them to blend into the trees around them._

_"Do you think we have enough people?" Draco mumbled to Greyback as they meant the rest of the Death Eaters._

_"And what did my dear nephew find on his little field trip?" Bellatrix sang._

_"Bones is alone in the house, the usual protection spells are up. She has something complex protecting the entrances," Draco explained._

_"I love an excuse for a little forced entry," Bellatrix smiled. "Is everyone ready? Remember, this woman is not to be trifled with."_

_Draco followed Greyback as he was lead towards back of the house. The pair walked within the trees to avoid being seen._

_"Great for them to trust us with the entire back of house," Draco mumbled._

_"Great for them to give the entire back of house to the only two people without wands here," Greyback complained._

_Draco didn't make any follow up statement as they lowered themselves into a crouch as they hurried to the back of the house._

_"Stop!" Draco grabbed Greyback's arm as he made to punch the backdoor window._

_"What?" Greyback whispered, "we need to get in. Don't tell me you're getting scared."_

_Draco lifted the welcome mat to reveal a key._

_He was given an eye roll for is genius revelation._

_The explosion from the front of the house called for more subtilty._

_"Fuck me!" Greyback cursed as he cupped his ear and kicked the door down with a growl. A pure solid force of physical power as he ran into the battle._

_Draco's ears rang has spells were thrown. The smell of ozone stained the air as spells were thrown at the target. He walked into a kitchen attached to the backdoor, only to dive to the floor as Greyback was thrown through the air and out the door like a rat._

_Screams filled the air. The very house itself groaned with the force of the battle that broke its walls._

_Glass shattered. Lights violently slashed against themselves with spells and counter-spells._

_Draco's teeth hurt with the force of the sounds._

_A Death Eater was broke into the room through the wall, his face a rolling, steaming form of boils._

_A figure moved through the hole left in the wall. A pair of burning eyes met Draco was he was face to face with Madam Bones._

_Draco ran._

_A spell hit the spot his head was at a second later. He didn't stop moving as he ran back out the door. Greyback laid over the steps, unconscious._

_Draco circled around the house at a slight distance. There was no way he was going back into that house._

_Part of the house was on fire, but the heavy rain worked to depleted the immediate threat. Plus, Bones was the worst threat to any Death Eater._

_Draco was fine outside._

_He rounded the house. The rain heavy on his cloak, but the warmth of the night provided some comfort._

_A gasp made him look up._

_Susan Bones stared back at him with wide eyes filled with tears._

_She was halfway out a window._

_Draco was reminded then of was he must look like to an outsider. He was dressed in all black with a skull mask over his face. He blended into the night, into the rain._

_He looked like Death._

_She was shaking. Not due to the cold or the rain, but because of the monster that stood before her._

_He froze._

_She didn't move._

_The sound of the roof collapsing made them both spring into action._

_Draco yanked Bones out of the window and onto the muddy ground._

_She screamed, Draco covered her mouth with his hand. He pulled her with him against the outside of the house, hoping behind hope that she hadn't been heard._

_Bones froze against him. She wasn't fighting him. She was just shaking._

_When he was sure no one was coming for them, he let Bones go. She was crying, her eyes wide as she tried to understand what was happening._

_Draco motioned for her to run._

_She slumped against the house. "I can't," she cried._

_Draco grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the house. He crouched into a nearby brush. Bones sank into the mud, her body limp. "I can't, I can't, I can't," she kept repeating weakly._

_"Look at me," Draco whispered to hide his voice._

_"Help me," Bones sobbed, "please help me. I don’t want to die."_

_Draco cupped her face, she was in shock. "You just need to run. Get help."_

_"They'll see me, I can't-"_

_"Look at me," Draco pulled out Daphne's light blue zippo lighter. A flash of recognition passed over Susan's face. "I'm a friend, trust me."_

_Susan nodded, her shoulders still shaking._

_"Just run, I'll give you cover," Draco lied._

_Susan Bones wrapped him into a tight hug, almost as if she was trying to steal his strength._

_He hugged her back as if he could give her strength._

_"You can't tell anyone I help you," he instructed. "Promise me."_

_She tightened her grip on him, he could feel her nod against his shoulder._

_He stood, he observed the house in which a war still raged on inside. If he made the wrong call in this moment, another girl could die because of his judgement._

_The rain pounded against Draco's skull. His mask weighed heavy on his head._

_Spells flew into the yard. Part of the house know kneeled into the mud. Blood splattered against window glass._

_Would anyone notice? Could anyone see pass the violence and the battle? Would a girl running for her life be seen and killed?_

_Lighting stabbed through the dark clouds. Draco pushed Susan out from cover and she broke into a run for her life._

**Author's Note:**

> ...I have no explanation. Enjoy!


End file.
